


Burn This Out

by ephemeralstark



Category: Marvel Cinematic Universe, Spider-Man (Tom Holland Movies), Spider-Man - All Media Types
Genre: Gen, Hallucinations, Heat Stroke, Hurt/Comfort, Iron Dad, Peter Needs a Hug, Peter Parker Acts Like a Spider, Peter Parker Can't Thermoregulate, Poor Peter Parker, Protective Tony Stark, Seizures, Spiderson and Iron dad, Whump, hyperthermia, i took advantage of peter's spider genetics to twist medical facts, spiderson
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-02-13
Updated: 2020-02-13
Packaged: 2021-02-27 19:53:41
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,067
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22701289
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ephemeralstark/pseuds/ephemeralstark
Summary: It's summer and Peter is free to be Spider-Man all day which is great, but it's summer and Peter is out as Spider-Man on the hottest day of the year which isnotgreat.Or, Peter gets heat stroke because he can't thermoregulate and things could not go worse for him.
Comments: 18
Kudos: 666
Collections: Irondad and Spiderson Valentine's Day Fic Exchange 2020





	Burn This Out

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Pokeydotes](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Pokeydotes/gifts).



> This fic is dedicated to @[pokeydotes](https://pokeydotes.tumblr.com/)! I was super nervous to write a fic for you because I love your writing so much and honestly wanted to write something you'd like! 
> 
> So here is Peter being unable to thermoregulate in a new(ish) way :D

_“Incoming call from May Parker.”_ Karen announced, just in time to distract Peter so that the robber he was trying to take down, got a solid blow in.

He recoiled, feeling blood trickle down his face inside his mask, “send to voicemail,” he gasped out.

_“You have sent 12% of May’s calls to voicemail this month.”_

“When you say it like-” Peter ducked another blow and shot a web at the guy’s weapon, pulling it from his hands, “-that, it sounds bad.”

_“I have no way to tell if that is ‘bad’ or not.”_ Karen uselessly told him.

Peter dodged another blow, catching the fist in his hands and twisting the guy’s arm around his back, holding him in place.

_“Message from May Parker, would you like to hear it?”_

“Not right now, I’m in the middle of something.” Peter said.

Naturally, Karen ignored him, and Peter heard his Aunt’s voice filter through the speaker in his mask, _“hey sweetie, I was wondering how late you were going to be out? I start work soon so let me know if you'll be home in time for dinner, I'm making a mean meat loaf tonight, you don't want to miss it – I promise it’s better than the last one! Anyway, just call me back ok? Love you”_

Peter felt a twinge of guilt as he ignored the message, he didn't mean to be rude, but he couldn't talk as May would pick up on the sounds of the altercation and she would just worry.

The guy tried his best to escape but Peter was stronger, and he wasn’t letting go. The robber ended up giving in eventually, his body sagging in Peter’s grip like a marionette whose strings had been cut. That had been surprisingly easy, that was a relief as Peter was beginning to feel odd.

“Hey, Karen, would you mind calling the cops please?” Peter asked as he carefully spun a web around the guys wrists in an imitation of handcuffs.

_“The police have been alerted to this location and the nature of the crime. According to their radios, a car has been dispatched and is en route.”_ Karen said.

“Nice.” Peter murmured.

He manhandled the guy into a sitting position and webbed his feet to the ground ensuring that he wouldn’t be going anywhere until the police arrived, and then he scaled up the dirty alley wall and perched on the roof, that made him feel surprisingly out of breath… weird, normally he could run for hours without tiring.

He just needed to make sure the police were the ones who found the guy, after all, Peter had left him in a rather vulnerable position. If a sketchy person passed by, there was every chance they could take advantage and try to mug the webbed up criminal in a bizarre twist of irony.

“You know,” Peter mumbled, “I should be getting paid for this.”

_“The police force classes you as a vigilante, therefore they cannot publicly side with you.”_

“I know, Karen.”

_“That also means they can’t pay you for your service, although you have contributed to 21% of arrests this month, which is higher than the 7% last month.”_

“See, this is why my curfew needs to be removed.” Peter said, arguing his point with the wrong person.

_“Your curfew is 2am today.”_

“Yeah, but only because it’s the summer, once I go back to school it’ll be 11pm again.” Peter sulked.

The bargaining process to extend his summertime curfew would go down in history books (or, well, it probably wouldn’t since the general public didn’t know that Peter was Spider-Man). It had consisted of a three-hour long conversation in which Peter eloquently put forward his points and May said, ‘heck no, you’re fifteen, there is no way you’re fighting criminals all night every night without a curfew’.

In the end, they had agreed that Peter could stay out until midnight on a weekday and two in the morning on a weekend throughout the summer, but he would return to normal once school started again.

It wasn’t so bad; Peter was taking advantage of the rest of his free time to work on his suit with Mr. Stark and work on watching every new release movie with Ned and MJ. He could understand May’s concerns, she thought that he should be using his summer to relax and recover from the stress of school and she wanted to make sure he wasn’t spending every second of his time as Spider-Man, she liked him to be home for dinner so she could make sure he was eating properly. Really, he couldn’t argue with that.

Although, he wasn’t proud to admit that he’d missed dinner a few times as he had gotten too caught up in his duties which had prompted the daily calls to remind him. He appreciated it – really, he did - it was just she always called just as he was taking down a bad guy, which meant that she was being sent to voicemail more than she should be.

Karen thankfully interrupted his spiralling thoughts.

_“Peter it is currently 12:14. I would recommend stopping for some lunch soon.”_

“Yeah, that’s probably a good idea,” Peter agreed, “how long has it been since breakfast.”

_“You started patrol at 07:37.”_

“Huh, wow.” Peter muttered. How come it was easy to wake up for patrol when he could barely drag himself out of bed for class? 

_“It is also the hottest day of the year so far and the sun is starting to reach the highest point in the sky. You should take a break for a few hours to avoid heat exhaustion.”_ Karen advised.

“It’s too busy for that, I’ve already stopped four muggings and an assault.” Peter said, trying to ignore the tiredness that was creeping over him. 

_“You’re doing a great job,”_ Karen said, _“perhaps you could have lunch inside somewhere.”_

“You’re really fixated on going indoors, aren’t you?” Peter muttered, rolling his eyes.

_“It is 100℉ currently.” Karen replied._

“Yeah, ok, you’re right, that is pretty hot.” Peter agreed. “Alright, K, you win. Let’s head to Delmar’s.”

Peter ran forward and leapt from the building, his head spinning as he caught himself with a web, that was strange – he didn’t usually feel dizzy when swinging. Maybe he was just hungry, as Karen had said, it had been a while since breakfast.

_“Is everything ok?”_ Karen asked.

“Yeah, I guess I just misjudged the jump,” Peter said unsurely.

_“You don’t normally do that.”_ Karen informed him.

“I’m aware.” Peter muttered wryly.

Dizziness overcame him once more as he tried to soar around the corner of the building, somehow, he cut it too close and ended up hitting his shoulder off it, which then sent him spinning out.

He yelled out in shock, and quickly aimed another web to catch himself.

“Nice going Peter.” He said breathlessly, trying to steer himself over to a rooftop. Once again, he misjudged the distance and instead of soaring smoothly onto the roof, he collided with the edge of it. The sharp edge surely bruised his abdomen through his suit, he muttered a pained curse under his breath before pulling himself up and rolling onto his back, panting as he stared up at the harsh sunlight.

_“Peter?”_ Karen asked hesitantly. _“Would you like me to call for assistance?”_

“No, I’m-” Peter’s head was still spinning, even though he was lying flat on his back, “I’m good?”

_“Are you sure? I could call May Parker, Happy Hogan, or Tony Stark.”_

“No, no, no.” Peter said instantly. “I’m ok. I think you’re right; I think I just need something to eat.” 

_“I don’t think I can order you a takeout to your current location.”_ Karen said.

“Is that a joke?” Peter asked with a snort.

_“Yes, you have been ‘tinkering’ with my software to allow me to learn humour.”_ Karen informed him.

“Yeah, I know.”

_“Then why would you question my ‘humour’?”_ Karen asked.

“I just- you know what? Never mind.” Peter muttered grumpily.

His head was beginning to hurt, the sun was too bright in his eyes, moving made him feel dizzy. Was he sweating? He didn’t think so, wasn’t that a bad sign?

“Hey Karen, what are the symptoms of heat stroke?”

_“Heat stroke sufferers have a temperature of 104℉ or higher, confusion, shortness of breath, lack of sweating, seizures and unresponsiveness.”_ Karen said. _“However, you appear to be displaying symptoms of heat exhaustion.”_

“Huh, is that worse?”

_“No, heat exhaustion can be dangerous, but heat stroke is a medical emergency. Heat stroke can develop from exhaustion in as little as thirty minutes.”_

“Look at me, learning things on a Queens rooftop.” Peter said, grinning beneath the mask.

_“You appear to be taking this well.”_

“It’s as you say, isn’t it? Heat stroke is worse, and I don’t have that.” Peter muttered. “Although, I’m not sweating?”

_“You never sweat.”_ Karen said.

“What?” Peter asked. “Never?”

_“No, why? Is that weird?”_

“Yeah, it’s freaking weird!” Peter shouted.

_“You appear to be distressed.”_ Karen informed him.

“Distressed? Of course I am, you’re calling me a freak!” Peter muttered.

_“Peter you need to calm down, your heart rate is elevated.”_

“Oh God, I can’t breathe.” Peter muttered as he gasped for breath. “Karen, what’s going on?”

_“I- I don’t know.”_ Karen admitted. _“Attempting to conta-”_

Peter ripped the mask off. He couldn’t breathe, he needed air. Maybe he was too high up? Or maybe someone had released a deadly toxin into the air that was suffocating him.

“Help me,” he gasped out. “Please, I can’t breathe.”

He sucked air in noisily, but his chest felt tight and he wasn’t convinced he was getting any benefit from it. Was he panicking? Was that why he couldn’t breathe? Or could he not breathe and that’s why he was panicking?

He tried to think logically, Karen said he was likely suffering from heat exhaustion, but it was starting to feel a little more extreme than what she had implied. Did that mean it was developing into heat stroke? Could it happen so quickly? Karen had said around thirty minutes, hadn’t she? How long had he been on the roof?

“This is happening too fast.” He gasped out.

“Of course it’s not, you’re you.” A familiar voice said.

“May?” He asked, taking in his Aunt who was sitting cross legged next to him. “What are you doing up here?”

“I heard you weren’t feeling well, sweetie.” She said and he could feel her hand run through his curls.

“I’m not,” he agreed, “is this what dying feels like?”

“You’re not dying,” May said with a laugh, “not yet, at least.”

“What?” Peter asked, jolting upright causing her to back off in shock.

The movement made his vision blur and stars erupted everywhere in bright flashes of blinding light. He blinked a few times, trying his best to see through them, but when they finally faded his heart jolted in fear. May was gone.

“May?” He called out.

Had she fallen? He staggered to his feet, the world tilted dramatically as he did so, but he didn’t have time to worry about that, May was in trouble.

“You know she was never here, right?” A man asked.

“Mr. Stark? Did Karen call you?” Peter asked as he stumbled over to the man. He was dressed in a pristine suit; how did he get there? Where was the Iron Man suit?

“You aren’t looking so hot, Underoos.” Mr. stark said, ignoring the questions. “Or is that the wrong wording? Maybe I should say you’re looking a little too hot.”

“What?”

“Did no one ever teach you how to stay safe in the sun?” Mr. Stark continued. “Look at your face! You look like a tomato.”

“Did you just come here to insult me?”

“Oh, and those mood swings!” Mr. Stark said clapping his hands loudly. “Feeling a little snappy there, Kiddo?”

“Why are you here?” Peter snapped.

“I don’t know, why am I here?” Mr. Stark asked, peering intently at Peter as though he had the answers.

“What? Why should I know?” Peter asked, feeling irritated that he had to hold a conversation while feeling so breathless.

“Why wouldn’t you?”

Peter flopped back to the ground, unable to keep standing any longer, “why are you being so cryptic?” he asked.

Silence.

“Mr. Stark?” Peter asked, pinching his nose in frustration, “hey? Mr. Stark?”

He opened his eyes and looked to the spot where Mr. Stark had been, he was no longer there. Had he also fallen? Had Peter lost both May and Mr. Stark in the space of… how long had it been anyway?

Peter closed his eyes, maybe he could sleep until it was better.

“Do people really think we’re smart?”

“What the hell?” Peter slurred out, blinking against the harsh sun as he tried to take in the curly haired boy standing over him.

“Come on, Peter, you _know_ what’s happening here.”

“You’re me?” Peter mumbled in confusion, “am I- are we dead?”

“No!” Peter watched his doppelgänger’s face screw up in frustration. “Peter, you’re hallucinating.”

“Why would I hallucinate myself?” Peter asked.

His reflection shrugged, “you have heatstroke.”

“But I thought heat stroke took time to develop.” Peter muttered.

“You’ve never been normal though, have you? You’ve can’t sweat because your spider genetics stop you from thermoregulating, and what do humans do to thermoregulate in heat?”

“They sweat.” Peter answered.

“But you can’t, and everything is progressing so much faster for you because all of those mechanisms to counteract hyperthermia don’t work thanks to that spider bite.”

“I knew I was right to be scared of spiders.” Peter mumbled.

“You’re getting off track.” Not-Peter said with a frown.

“I don’t care, you’re not me, you can’t control what I do!” Peter shouted.

“I am you though,” not-Peter said, “and I know that these outbursts are being caused by the heat stroke.”

“How do I stop it?” Peter asked.

“You’re screwed,” not-Peter said, “if you’d kept your mask on then maybe you could have called for help, but you took it off then staggered away and collapsed. Could you make it back to your mask if you wanted to?”

It took every bit of Peter’s energy to lift his head from the burning concrete to look at where his mask was, maybe twenty metres away.

“I can’t, can you get it for me?” Peter asked.

“Weren’t you listening? I’m not real, I’m a hallucination.”

“So, you’re going to let me die here?” Peter asked.

“You have bigger things to worry about.” Not-Peter said, rolling his eyes.

“Bigger things than dying?” Peter asked in confusion, before understanding slowly spread through him as he felt the world tremble around him. “E-e-e-a- qway.”

“See, because I’m you, I know you’re trying to say earthquake.” Not-Peter said casually, still staring down at Peter, whose eyes felt like they were rolling upwards, was he passing out? “But there’s no earthquake. You’re seizing.”

…

The world was trembling.

…

“Peter!”

…

_Help me!_

…

“Hold on, Kiddo!”

…

_I’m sorry May, I should have been home in time for dinner more. I love you._

…

“Stark? What the-”

“Out of my way.”

“Put him on the table.”

“Help him.”

“Move let me-”

…

“Peter, can you hear me?”

…

_I wasn’t better, Mr. Stark, I’m so sorry. You wanted me to be better and I let you down._

…

“-ice bath-”

…

“NO!”

Peter thrashed as much as he could, but hands pushed him down from every side. They forced him down into freezing water, was this a punishment? What had he done? His body was too weak to fight but he still fought as best he could, he tried to shrug the hands off and escape the icy torture.

“Shh, it’ll be over soon, Kiddo.” A smooth, reassuring voice murmured in his ears.

_Over soon? They were trying to kill him!_

“G-g-get off!”

Water splashed over the side of the tub he was in, surely drenching the people who were holding him down. Good. They deserved it. He continued to struggle and thrash, until he couldn’t anymore, and he felt the comforting warmth of unconsciousness trickle over him.

…

“Rhabdomyolysis.”

“Rhabo-what?”

“His muscles are breaking down.”

…

“Potassium? Like in bananas?”

“Well… it is in them but that’s not what we’re focusing on here.”

“So, he has too much? Get rid of some.”

“We’re doing our best, but we need to watch out for cardiac arrhythmias.”

“Cardia-”

…

“Hey, baby, it’s me… May.”

…

“What the fu-”

“Tony calm down.”

“You expect me to be calm after hearing that he fucking died?”

“He’s alright now.”

“Is he? Really? Look at him!”

…

Peter’s head hurt, his muscles ached, his chest felt tender… what was going on? He blinked slowly, the bright lights overhead stinging his eyes.

“…he’s very lucky, if he wasn’t Spider-Man then I would even go as far as to say that he wouldn’t have been so strong.” A calm female voice said from somewhere in the room.

“He looks so young.”

Mr. Stark? Where was he? Was this another rooftop hallucination? Were those bright lights just the sun?

“He is young.” The woman said.

“Mr. Stark?” Peter tried to say, but his throat was too dry and all that came out was ‘mis’ st’r’.

“Peter? Pete? Can you hear me?” Mr. Stark asked, his face appearing above Peter, huh, apparently his mentor had forgotten what a hairbrush was. 

“Hmm.” Peter murmured in agreement, closing his eyes again, he was still so tired.

“Peter,” the woman said, “my name is Dr Helen Cho, I’m going to need to you open your eyes for a moment, please.”

Peter complied, feeling the light burn into his retinas again.

“I’m going to shine a light in your eyes now,” Dr Cho said, Peter couldn’t help but flinch as she did so. Ow. That had hurt, “sorry, Peter.”

“’m tir’d.” Peter mumbled, there was a breeze in the room but… that was odd. The breeze was only going up his nose. He lifted a hand to it, huh, there was something plastic sticking up his nostrils and shooting a breeze up them.

“I know, Pete,” Mr. Stark said, his voice reassuring amid the fear that was weighing Peter down, his hand reached out and guided Peter’s away from the plastic in his nose, “leave that be kiddo, it’s giving you a little extra oxygen.”

The voices continued to talk over him, but he couldn’t keep track of what was being said. His eyes closed and he found himself dropping into unconsciousness once more.

…

The next time Peter woke up, he was more alert, he was able to return May’s tearful hug and reassure her that he was alright, and she was able to reassure him that the cannula in his arm was necessary and the catheter wasn’t something to be embarrassed about.

It wasn’t easy to do so, but eventually he managed to convince her to go shower and get something to eat, leaving him with Mr. Stark. His idol looked… old and tired.

“So,” Peter murmured, his voice still slightly slurred with exhaustion, “what exactly happened? I know May was hiding the truth.”

“You really don’t want to know kiddo.”

“I do, though,” Peter said, “I need to. I remember little snippets and I _need_ to understand what was going on because they’re driving me mad.”

“What do you remember?” Mr. Stark asked, leaning forward.

“Something about my muscles, and the cold, and…” Peter hesitated, “did I die?”

Mr. Stark rocked back in his seat and ran a hand through his goatee.

“I don’t know if I should tell you any of this,” Mr. Stark admitted, “I genuinely don’t know if it’ll help you or not.”

“I can handle it.” Peter said, he was desperate to know. “It’s my life, I deserve to know what happened to me.”

Peter half expected a sharp look and his request to be denied, but Mr. Stark merely leaned forward and rested his elbows on Peter’s bed.

“You’re right.”

That was unexpected.

“You had heat stroke,” Mr. Stark said, “it’s dangerous, like, really dangerous. More so for you than a normal person.”

“Why?”

“You don’t thermoregulate, remember the frosty debacle of January?” Peter nodded, so his hallucinations had been correct. “Yeah, thermoregulation applies to hot and cold weather. So, a normal person’s body would have started to cool them down, whereas yours just… didn’t. Not only that but you were flinging yourself around in a skin tight suit that doesn’t have the best material to allow for air flow. I really should have put AC in there as well as the heater.”

“So everything was against me?” Peter asked.

“Pretty much.” Mr. Stark said. “I’m not totally sure of the medical stuff, Cho explained it to me, but my attention was somewhere else. Essentially though, your body was screwing you over at an unprecedented rate and your accelerated healing gave up.”

“Rude.”

“Yeah, I had another word for it, but ‘rude’ works.”

“I don’t think May would approve of that.”

“She didn’t.” Mr. Stark said with a smirk.

“So, I had heat stroke, what then?”

“You were convulsing like something out of _The Exorcist._ ” Mr. Stark said. “We couldn’t get your temperature down, we had to act fast because every second was risking brain damage.”

“The cold.” Peter mumbled.

“Yeah,” Mr. Stark winced, “I was really hoping you wouldn’t remember that one.”

“I don’t think I could forget it.”

“We all hated every moment of it, but it was necessary.” Mr. Stark said. “It worked really well. Your temperature came down to a safer level and we could work on assessing the damage until you regained consciousness.”

“The damage?”

“Well, it turned out there’s this thing called rhab- rhabdo- oh I don’t know! Your muscles were breaking down. It’s as terrifying as it sounds, and you were beyond lucky, Underoos. You could have damaged your kidneys to the point where you’d have kidney failure.”

“So I didn’t?”

“No, they’re damaged, but thanks to Cho’s skills and your healing factor, they’re on the mend.” Mr. Stark said to him.

“And the other thing…” Peter said quietly.

“Turns out too much potassium is really fucking bad,” Mr. Stark said, a haunted look passing over him, “I watched them. I froze, and I just watched them, begging you not to give up.”

“I’m sorry.”

“Don’t- don’t apologise for that.”

“Alright, I am sorry for worrying you though,” Peter admitted, “I wasn’t thinking straight, I should have called for help.”

“You were delirious,” Mr. Stark explained, “it’s not your fault you didn’t call, you weren’t really capable of making safe decisions. We’re just fortunate that Karen made the call before you removed the mask.”

Peter paused, taking in the bags under his mentor’s eyes and the wrinkles in his forehead from frowning.

“Are you ok?” Peter asked.

Mr. Stark let out a humourless, breathy laugh, “kid, you need to worry about yourself, not me.”

“Mr. Stark, are you ok?” Peter repeated.

“I don’t think I’ve told you this, Underoos, but you mean the world to me, and the thought of you dying nearly killed me. I’m under no illusions that I could ever replace your father or uncle, but I love you, Kiddo.”

“You’re not my dad or Ben, but you’re just as good as them, I think they’d be real glad that I have someone like you looking out for me,” Peter said quietly, “and I love you too.”

“Right, great,” Mr. Stark said, clearing his throat, “glad we got that sorted. Now, May will be back in a moment, since she can barely stand to leave your side, so when she returns, I was telling you about the break in attempt.”

“There was a break in attempt?” Peter asked.

“Stark! Are you terrifying my nephew with talk of robbers?”

“No,” Mr. Stark immediately replied, “we were, uh, discussing Peter’s hotel movie choices.”

“Hey!” Peter shouted.

“Oh,” May said with a ‘gotcha’ smirk, “so you were talking about the time you kidnapped my nephew (who is a minor) and took him out of the country?”

“Well… shit.”

Peter couldn’t help but laugh loudly at that. Sure, his entire body was hurting and he had a long way to go before he would be ‘better’, but he felt _safe_ because he was surrounded by his family, and they wouldn’t let anything hurt him.

**Author's Note:**

> I hope you enjoyed! Let me know what you thought, and find me on tumblr @[ephemeralstark](https://ephemeralstark.tumblr.com/)


End file.
